Fifteen
by kumikokat
Summary: A number of short stories set back when each of the characters was fifteen years old, or when they become fifteen years old.
1. One, Hiro and Ando

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes**

**Author's Note: The following chapters will focus in on one or two individual characters when they are fifteen years old. Since they are all different ages, each chapter will take place at a different time. I do realise that the characters mostly found out about their abilities during season one, when they were older. For the purposes of this story, they already know (or will be soon finding out) that they have one.**

**One. Hiro and Ando.**

"Happy birthday!"

Hiro's eyes flickered open but all he could see was a mess of blurry shapes.

"Your glasses, stupid." That was his sister, Kimiko, he knew from her voice. That and the fact that no one else called him stupid. He felt the cold, wire-rimmed glasses being pressed into his hand and he hurriedly put them on, anxious to see the pile of presents waiting for him at the foot of his bed. Just because he was fifteen now didn't mean he couldn't get excited about his birthday.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes and gazed on the…disappointingly small pile of presents.

"This one's from me," Kimiko thrust an envelope into his face, "happy birthday."

Hiro found the seal and slowly, very slowly, began to peel it open.

"I hate it when you do that! Why can't you just rip it open like everyone else?" Kimiko grabbed the envelope, tore it open for him and upended it so that its contents spilled all across Hiro's sheets.

"Uh…" It was money. A _lot_ of money. More money than Hiro had ever seen in one place. He was speechless.

"Just say thank you, little brother," Kimiko laughed, hugging him.

"Thank you," he grinned, "can I throw it up in the air?"

"Do what you want," Kimiko told him, hiding a smile, "it's yours."

Hiro laughed as he scooped up the notes and threw them into the air, watching them spiral down again. Kimiko started packing them back into the envelope.

"Maybe you can spend it on comic books or something," Kimiko shrugged, eyeing his extensive collection, "as if you need any more."

"Where's the birthday boy?" Ishi, Hiro's mother, waltzed into the large-but-cluttered bedroom and swept her son into a big hug. Kaito followed at a slower pace, looking far more serious, as ever.

"This one's from us," he told Hiro, lifting a very large parcel from the pile. It was wrapped in shiny silver paper which made it glint enticingly. Hiro took it, held it to his ear, and shook it.

"Don't shake it!" Ishi's hand darted out to steady the parcel.

"Why, is it valuable?" Hiro blinked at her through his thick glasses.

"Just open it, geek," Kimiko commanded, "and hurry up. I want breakfast."

Hiro ripped the paper off. He saw the much-loved apple logo on the box and he swore later that his heart skipped a beat. Now he started unwrapping in earnest, tearing into the box with all the focus and ruthlessness of a lion tearing into it's pray.

"The new Mac? Thank you so much mum, dad!" Hiro gasped, clutching the box to him. "I'm going to set it up right after I see Ando."

Ishi looked at Kaito and they both laughed.

"We knew you'd like it."

* * *

When the rest of the presents had been opened – which were mostly strange things from very distant relatives who clearly thought he was still five – Hiro pulled on a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt and went to visit his best friend.

"That was fun," he laughed as he teleported into Ando's tiny bedroom. There was no response from Ando, which prompted him to turn around. The tall, rather awkward fifteen-year-old was still fast asleep.

And he was wearing Smurf pyjamas.

Hiro stifled a laugh and screamed, "Ando! The house is on fire!"

Ando's eyes flew open as he let out a high pitched scream and rolled off the single bed in surprise. Hiro chuckled.

"Hi Ando," he grinned, putting out a hand to help his friend up.

"Don't do that, Hiro!" There was no real anger in his voice as he allowed Hiro to pull him onto his feet. "Uh…about the pyjamas."

"I didn't see them," Hiro smiled, "now get dressed. We're going to the comic book store."  
"I don't have any money after our _last _visit to the comic book store," Ando protested.

"Don't worry," Hiro pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and showed Ando the notes inside, "comic books are on me today. And afterwards I'm taking you out for waffles!"

"We really are wild, Hiro," Ando said bemusedly, "I thought we'd be doing something special for your birthday, but we're just spending it like we spend every other Saturday."

"Are you saying no to free comic books?" Hiro raised an eyebrow.

"I'll go get dressed."

______________

Hiro and Ando reappeared in a secluded spot just around the corner from the comic book store. Hiro usually just teleported wherever he wanted, but Ando didn't like the stares directed their way when they appeared from nowhere in busy areas.

Hiro hadn't stopped talking about his new computer and it was starting to annoy Ando, whose ancient PC was close to death. It was the kind of machine that played text-only video games and it took up a whole corner in his already small room.

"Ando? Ando are you listening to me?"

"Of course I am. What were you saying?"

Before Hiro could answer, a guy in a black trench coat came sprinting down the alleyway towards them, a polythene bag clutched in his hand. As he passed, a few coins spilled out and landed at Hiro's feet. He looked at Ando and raised an eyebrow. Before Ando could say anything the owner of the comic book store appeared at the end of the alley.

"Thief!" He yelled. "That guy's taking my money!"

"Huh…" Hiro looked thoughtful.

"Don't, Hiro!"

"Maybe this is one of those times I get to use my superpowers in the name of justice!"

"Hiro, you shouldn't. It's out of your control."

But his friend was already gone.

**Thank you for reading! We'll revisit Hiro and Ando in a later chapter. Please tell me what you think! **


	2. Two, Isaac

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes**

**Author's Note: The following chapters will focus in on one or two individual characters when they are fifteen years old. Since they are all different ages, each chapter will take place at a different time. I do realise that the characters mostly found out about their abilities during season one, when they were older. For the purposes of this story, they already know (or will be soon finding out) that they have one.**

**Two. Isaac.**

"Hey, Mendez."

Isaac looked up. Naomi Emerson stood above him, looking shy as ever, twisting a brown plait around her finger.

"You're blocking my light."

"Oh…sorry." She moved around to the other side of the table. "What are you working on?"

"It's nothing." He shoved the sketchpad and paint brushes back into his messenger bag.

"Ok. Um…"

"Did you want something?"

"I…uh…guess not," she said, biting her lip, "I'll just…get out of your hair." She looked upset as she walked away, back to her friends sitting at another one of the cafeteria's round, bolted-down tables.

Isaac usually sat by himself. He liked the quiet, it helped him to paint. And anyway, no one wanted anything to do with him. They all thought he was some kind of psycho junkie. Except Naomi. Why was he so rude to her? He wasn't sure. The poor girl had a crush on him. Maybe that freaked him out a little bit.

He didn't know what she saw in him. Naomi had a reputation as a "good girl", and they didn't mix very well with the "psycho junkies".

Isaac stood up, pulling his messenger bag off of the ground, and walked out of the cafeteria. The halls were empty, and a little too quiet. He could hear his converse squeaking on the cheap linoleum floor. This was the part of the horror movie were something leapt out and grabbed him.

And lo, it did.

"Where you going, Mendez?"

"Ah, Fraser. Nowhere that would interest you, I'm sure." Isaac tried to shove past the lump of a fifteen-year-old boy but had no success.

"I don't like your attitude, Mendez."

"I don't like _you_, Fraser. Can I go now?"

Fraser, clearly stunned by Isaac's failure to cower and stutter at him, blinked. This was his moment. Isaac tried to go around him, but his tree-trunk arm shot out and caught him around the neck.

"What's in the bag?" Fraser was almost growling.

"Nothing," Isaac said, too quickly, "I mean, it's just school stuff."

"I think you've got something to hide." Fraser grabbed the messenger bag and pulled out the sketchbook. Isaac felt his heart leap into his throat. _No one_ looked at his sketchbook. Fraser began flipping through the thick, high-quality pages, passing only a fleeting glance across the paintings. They were mostly of people Isaac knew, but they weren't things he'd seen. He didn't know where the subject of each painting came from, he just painted and there it was.

Except for the last painting. He didn't know where that had come from.

Unfortunately, this was where Fraser's pig-like eyes came to rest.

"Who are these Japanese guys?" His brow furrowed. "Your boyfriends?"

"I don't know, I made them up."

"Ha, imaginary friends?"

"You continue to amaze me with your intelligence, Fraser."

_______________

What seemed like a long time later Fraser left, leaving Isaac with a number of sizeable bruises and a bloody nose. Isaac bent down, ignoring the pain in his ribs, and snatched up the sketchbook.

"Isaac! Are you ok?"

Isaac turned around to see Naomi running towards him, her big eyes full of concern. She was quite pretty really, he noticed for the first time.

"I'm fine Naomi. Listen, do you want to go, I don't know, get some coffee or something after school?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

**Thank you for reading, and we'll revisit Isaac in a later chapter! Please review, I'd love to know what you think. **


	3. Three, Molly

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes**

**Author's Note: The following chapters will focus in on one or two individual characters when they are fifteen years old. Since they are all different ages, each chapter will take place at a different time. I do realise that the characters mostly found out about their abilities during season one, when they were older, or possibly younger. For the purposes of this story, they already know (or will be soon finding out) that they have one.**

**I know Molly was younger than fifteen when appearing in seasons one and two, so this chapter will be set in the future.**

**Three. Molly. **

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

The muffled bass had been echoing from Molly's bedroom all evening. Matt tapped on her door.

"What?" The door flew open to reveal Molly, her eyes heavy with black eyeliner. In the room behind her Matt could see dozens of maps lying on the floor and tacked to the walls, different pictures, mostly headshots of people, pinned in various locations on each one.

"Would you mind turning the music down a little?"

"Fine." She rolled her eyes and slammed the door in Matt's face, turning around to face the bombsite that was her bedroom. This, of course, wasn't _messy_ mess. It was _organised_ mess, and it was just the way Molly liked it.

She sauntered across the room to the largest map and traced the long red lines between pictures with her fingertip. She'd recently become obsessed with finding other people like her, other people with abilities. She just liked to know that there were lots more out there. She just liked to know that she wasn't a complete freak.

It had all started when she'd found Mohinder's files, stuffed in a box in the wardrobe, gathering dust. She'd found a number of the people in them to be dead, but the other ones she'd tracked, placed. It had sort of branched from there, as she placed people she knew from memory, and people in Matt's memory. Now she had quite a collection.

The noise of someone knocking on the front door echoes through the apartment and Molly switched her iPod dock off. _No one_ came to the door. She edged her bedroom door open and peeked out, watching as Matt answered.

"Who are you?"

The person at the door, a woman, Molly realised, but she couldn't properly see her face, shoved Matt out of the way and strode into the apartment.

"Where is she?" The woman's voice was clear, high and sharp. Molly felt herself tense. Of course the woman was talking about her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Matt said unconvincingly, gesturing at Molly behind his back. It was their secret emergency signal. It meant _run_.

Molly didn't need to be told twice. She slipped back into her bedroom and pulled the window open. She heard raised voices from the living room as she struggled through the small gap, her heart racing, her breathing shallow. She had thought people had stopped chasing her. She thought she was safe.

Her feet landed on the fire escape, which shivered ominously under her weight. Without missing a beat she started climbing down, and, to her utter horror, she felt tears pricking the back of her eyes. Her first thought was for her mascara, and despite what the situation she was in, she just had to laugh at herself.

Reaching the bottom of the fire escape, Molly leapt onto the concrete and took off running, heading in the direction of the pre-arranged rendezvous point she had agreed with Matt.

She just hoped he would get there.

**Short chapter, I know, I'm just trying to set the scene. Thank you for reading and please review, I love hearing what you think! **


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